Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

So Long… Not Gonna Miss You

And it came to pass at the end of the four hundred and thirty years—on that very same day—it came to pass that all the armies of the Lord went out from the land of Egypt.” Exodus 12:41

She was waving goodbye…and I was glad. We all know there is a reason why the windshield is the largest window in a car.  It is very important that we can see clearly where we are heading…where we are going.  I also suppose that we understand that the side windows are also important…if not for navigation, at least for pleasure.  They allow us to look around as we journey.  The second largest window in the car is the rear window but without another important item…well, the rear window is rendered almost useless.

That important item is the rearview mirror.  It allows us, at a glance, to see what is behind us.  We get to see if another driver is impatiently following us…too closely. We can tell if they are too close by reading their expression.  If you can see their scowl, then you are right…they are too close.  Another thing the rearview mirror allows us to do is see what or if someone is chasing us.  Imagine with me that you are driving down the road doing, let’s say, 69 in a 55 mph zone or about 14 miles per hour over the speed limit.  That is probably enough to get you into trouble with whatever law enforcement is in the area.

As you top a hill or round a curve you see a police vehicle hiding or prominently sitting beside the road.  It doesn’t matter because, well, it is too late. You pass by their vehicle trying to decide whether to hit the brakes, knowing that your brake lights will be an admission of guilt, or maybe just coast.  Almost immediately, your rearview mirror becomes very important.  You want to know if they are coming…to see if they are chasing you. Gulp. Well, like the songs says, “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, big time Charlie’s got the blues.”

Of course, the other purpose of the rearview mirror is to see what you just left.  If it is family, you might look as they are waving goodbye.  Perhaps, it might be the other side of a big, and I mean big, traffic jam you just came through.  You look back and sigh or smile and are grateful it is behind you.  Boy, do I know about that one.  I also know the pleasure of looking in the rearview mirror of life as a less than pleasant situation slowly fades away.  My most recent pleasurable goodbye was as I watched Corena waving and fading away.  Oh, and if you don’t know who Corena is, check out gritswithgrace.com and search for her…trust me…she is there.

Whether it is a traffic jam or an illness or something else, it is always a good thing when something difficult finally fades away in the rearview mirror of life.  What you thought would never end…does…and you are grateful.  One of the most valuable life lessons we can learn is that things don’t come to stay…they come to pass.  Several times in the Bible, the writer will use the term, “And it came to pass” and it means that when the time was right, things moved on.  Someone once said, “My favorite verse in the Bible is, “And it came to pass…”

One source said that the Bible repeats that phrase 396 times. One of my favorites is Exodus 12:41. It says, “And it came to pass at the end of the four hundred and thirty years—on that very same day—it came to pass that all the armies of the Lord went out from the land of Egypt.”  Whew.  That is one long traffic jam.

“It came to pass.” I like that. While it may not be my favorite verse, I am very grateful that it is true…things don’t come to stay…they come to pass. That pesky traffic jam will soon fade.  That dance with Corena, “Sorry ma’am, the music has stopped.”  And here is just one more bit of really, good news.  When we choose to make Creator God our Father, well, we have the confident assurance that He will be there with us through the whole thing…even if that means stepping into heaven.  Regardless, take it to the bank, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

He’s Writing a New Story

God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6

“Do you have a pencil?” he asked.  Realizing there were plenty of kinds of pencils he added, “You know, the old-fashioned kind?”  I’m not sure why he needed it, but I rummaged through my desk drawer and found one.  I think he needed one with lead on one end and an eraser on the other.  The kind where you use one end to write a story or make a mark and the other you use to remove your “oops.” Today we are more likely to use the delete key on a keyboard. Erasers were my friends. Delete keys are my new friend. It makes my oops disappear.  I have a lot of oops.

My delete key changes things.  As I look back over the last year, I am still amazed at the way things were shutdown.  I was even more amazed as I was forced to go to my calendar and delete things.  On my personal calendar and on the church calendar, one by one, meetings and events were deleted. It was difficult for me…it was difficult for us and in the midst of it all, I almost lost sight of the big picture…a picture so big only God could be holding the brush.

One day I found myself staring at the calendar like a blank canvas and I realized what had been planned didn’t matter anymore. But here is the really, good part. The space that was cleared left plenty of room–room for God to write a new story. A different story. A better story. Things like a new Wednesday program for our church was born.  In the white space created by that largely empty calendar, Grits was born. The bottom line is without God orchestrating the delete button, things that needed to change would have stayed the same. A new men’s, ladies, and children’s program would not have been born.  And a year’s worth of Grit’s stories would still be in my head and heart but not on the page. The thing I resisted led to the freedom to do it.

I’ve heard stories of different ways God used that hot mess to rewrite lives.  We saw what could happen if we started to freely, to openly, invite Him to use the delete button and rewrite the stories of our lives.  We discovered opportunities, adventures that suddenly filled the pages of our lives.  A walk to the park became a safari. Homemade pizza night became an edible art gallery. The dining room table was cleared, and we pulled out the family games that had stayed in the closet too long.

Cards were written, calls made, and stories shared.  Think about it. Remember how the kids’ faces lit up as they heard again how you met each other or how you met Jesus? Think of the new stories yet to be told as we look back when things were so hard, and we all learned how to trust God for help.  We saw faith leaping off the page of the Bible and right onto the pages of our lives. If we asked, we might hear our kids tell us “Mom, Dad that bad time was the best time because we got to be together.” How about that?

Yes, those really were challenging times.  Financially. Emotionally. Spiritually.  And honesty…they still are. But what if God is writing a new story that in the end is the stuff of legends?  What if in a few years these days are some of the best memories?  And it was all possible because we said, “Ok God–go ahead and use the delete key.  I’m trusting that Your story is better than my story. I’m trusting You.”

You see, God’s best use of the delete key is when He applies His grace to our sins, our mistakes, our misguided decisions, our oops.  New pasts and new futures are His specialties, and they are often written in crazy days like these.  So, go ahead, press that delete key. Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Free to Be Me

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed. Evening came and then morning: the sixth day.” Genesis 1:31

It was a profound statement.  It was1967 and I was in junior high.  In Jacksonville that meant grades 7-9 and it meant a whole different world from elementary school.  For the first time we went to separate classes and actually got to choose some of our food at lunch in the cafeteria. I remember, for a dime, you could actually buy a bowl of french fries. While they weren’t anything like McDonald’s, I do believe they were potatoes, and they were long and skinny.

It may have been the sixties, but there were rules. For the girls skirts and dresses had to be a certain length. For the guys your hair could only be so long and then there were the big three: shirt tucked in, wear a belt, and socks.  Break those and you and the principal had a date.  By the time I was in the ninth grade, things were relaxing some and that included the big three.  On Fridays, boys were allowed to untuck their shirts, not wear a belt, and not wear socks. Holy moly, what was the world coming to?  Looking back, the cool thing was to take the socks that you weren’t wearing and put them hanging out of your rear pant’s pocket.  Every Friday, my shirt was out, my belt stayed home, and my socks were flapping in the breeze.  Do you know why?  It was cool…and I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be in. I wanted to be accepted.

As you know, through the years the trends have changed, styles have come and gone, and so have the labels.  In high school Gold Toe socks were coveted and so were Gant shirts. We couldn’t afford either but when I joined the Air Force and could shop at the Base Exchange, they carried both and both became part of my world.  I was cool. I was in. I was accepted. Some things never change, and this is one of those.  There was always something that someone was wearing that if you had it, you just knew you would feel cool…accepted…part of the “in” crowd.  When I came to my current church, it was  shirts with ponies and shoes named “Crocs.” Whatever the newest label, and there was always one, peer pressure and the desire to be cool, accepted, and in, pushed and pulled.  It seemed I always wanted to be what someone else was.

Thankfully, some of that has changed.  Ponies and crocs aren’t really that cool anymore, and I’m starting to realize that a label doesn’t define who I am.  I.Am.Me. In fact, my four favorite shirts are from Walmart and cost a grand total of $9.88 each. There’s nothing on the pocket—they are just plain shirts which is pretty cool, because I define them…they don’t define me.

I read something this morning that was just profound.  Here it is. Are you ready?  “Each person was born an original; no one should die a copy.” Wow.  It goes like this.  Somewhere in heaven, God came up with a design plan for me.  He wrote the design and then declared it an original and just right. In fact, in Genesis 1:31, the Bible says, “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed.” And do you know what?  That includes me and that includes you. There is not another me or you, anywhere, and that was intentional. I don’t need to be you and you don’t need to be me. We just need to be who God made us. Sure, fashion labels are fine, and I’m even sure there is a perfect weight and height, but those don’t dictate who we are…God does.

In the years that God gives me, I hope I will remember this.  When the clock stops ticking, the heart stops beating, and you are having a chicken dinner somewhere in my honor, I hope someone will be able to say, “That Dewayne, he was an original. God broke the mold when He made him.”  I don’t want to die a copy…I want to die an original.

Given my bent to be a people pleaser and desire to be cool, accepted and in, I’m sure that will be a challenge. Gratefully, my Dearest Daddy will be with me along the way to remind me that I am a custom-made job, and you are too.  And, if I am wise enough to ask and listen, He will help me be me.  Oh, and if I struggle, and I will, and you will too, just listen as He reassures us that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

Life on the Bench

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9

It’s hard to be on the bench when the team is on the field. I guess when they were giving out abilities for sports I was in the wrong line.  It just never was my strong suit. My first and only experience with little league ball didn’t happen till I was probably in the fourth grade.  I joined a team and clearly wasn’t going to be a starter.  When I did play it was right field.  Actually, it was about this time I began to learn about prayer.  As soon as I took the field, I would pray that the other team wouldn’t hit a ball in right field.  That didn’t work too well.  My other and more serious prayer meetings occurred at the plate. I didn’t pray to get on base…I prayed to survive.

So even though I felt safest on the bench, it wasn’t where I wanted to be.  I wanted to be a hero, a winner, and from where I sat the bench was for the guys who weren’t good enough.  It was there that I learned to hate the bench and I would spend the rest of my life relearning that sometimes the bench is where God teaches us our greatest lessons. In fact, I am learning that any place God puts you is the place to be.  The bench is not for losers or second-stringers, no, it is for people willing to trust that He knows best.

In 2018, I had a hard lesson to learn.  My wife Judy and I were leading a mission team to Uganda, East Africa.  We arrived in Africa and made it to the guest house.  My first night there, the night before we were to leave for the islands to work, I came down with the flu…the real flu.  The team had to go on without me and Judy stayed back to help care for me.  Boy, I didn’t like that, but later I did begin to understand it.  It turns out that God raised others to lead, and the team went on to do some great work.  While I hated not being there to lead, God had a better plan.  And, I think He just did it again.

This past weekend was our first Back to School Community Outreach since COVID or as it turned out…in the midst of COVID.  This event draws hundreds of people and as pastor, I was a key leader, and my wife was in charge of the event.  Tuesday, I started having some symptoms of what I thought was my annual sinus thing.  It wasn’t…it was COVID.  I was down and out for the count and Judy was quarantined.  Once again, God chose…God chose…to remove the two key leaders.  The reason? Well, I don’t have all the answers to that one, but I do know He had a plan, and He can be trusted.

If the past is any indicator, it was about giving other leaders a chance to lead and letting the church be the church even when certain people are not there.  It was a challenge. It was a test. It was an opportunity to trust the Lord.  Well, normally, I would have been stomping my feet about being on the bench…but not this time.  No, I’m slowly learning that God is better at being God than I am.  I am learning that He is smarter than me, more caring than me and never, ever, makes a mistake.  My only job is to trust Him and learn whatever He wants me to personally learn.

I didn’t chose this dance with Corena…my pet name for the COVID.  I didn’t ask her to dance…she just cut in and changed my immediate plans.  It happened in 2018 with the flu in Africa and most likely it will happen again sometime in the future. In the Old Testament part of the Bible, God says, “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” My response can only be, “Yes, Lord.”

Fortunately my dance with Corena is almost history and hopefully I have learned all I need to learn from this time on the bench.  I’m sure it includes that no matter what—God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted.  Oh, and it also includes another dose of, “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Chucking Rocks

When they kept on questioning Him, He straightened up and said to them, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John 8:7

I should have listened.  I was a pretty good kid when I was young but let’s be honest.  Pretty good doesn’t mean perfect and pretty good doesn’t mean not mischievous.  I think it means I was somewhere close to normal.  The only thing is normal can still get you into trouble.

One day I was with the family and I’m pretty sure we were at a laundromat.  Apparently, the washing machine had broken down and we had to do the wash at the mat.  My daddy and I were out in the parking lot while mama was washing the clothes.  I was about nine and bored and that is not a good combination.  The parking lot was gravel and all those rocks just seemed to be saying, “Throw me.”  So, I obliged.

At first it was a little toss here and there but the more I threw, the more I wanted to throw.  First it was random, but then I started taking aim.  Several things were laying along the edge of the parking lot and they made great targets but then I got an idea.  If hitting a can was good, imagine hitting a moving target.  So, I started chucking the rocks in the direction of the road and at the cars passing by.  Bad idea.

Now, if you are going to chuck rocks at a car, every nine-year old rock chucker knows you don’t just chuck your rock with obvious intention.  You ease into it. Well, I started easing into it and before long, my rocks were landing dangerously close to cars going by.  My Daddy thought it was kinda accidental and it garnered a “Dewayne, be careful not to hit the cars.”  He hadn’t caught onto my real plan to “ping a hub cap.”  Anyway, I kept chucking so he upped the warning.

“Dewayne, listen, don’t throw rocks at the cars.” He had finally caught on and I should have quit while I was ahead.  I finally got close enough so that we entered “Final Jeopardy.” “Question—what happens if you hit a car? Answer—I’m gonna give you a spanking.”  Yeah, well, you can probably guess where this is going.  I chucked a rock and hit a car going by and it was “Final Jeopardy.”  Daddy got mad, the driver got mad, and I got in trouble.

Well, Daddy was able to talk to the driver and he promised him the “grapes of wrath” would fall when we got home.  As he drove off, Daddy explained about the “grapes of wrath.” Translated it meant I was gonna get a spanking when we got home, and it wasn’t gonna be a little one.  So, as soon as we pulled into our driveway, I ran into the house and hid under the dining room table.  Soon, I heard Daddy’s voice, “Where are you, Dewayne?”  I felt like Adam and Eve in the garden after they had chucked rocks at God and decided to sin.  God was looking for them and they were hiding too.

And that’s where things get fuzzy.  I don’t remember the spanking which means I probably got grace instead.  It probably means that Daddy and I had a long talk about chucking rocks at cars and how that was not a good thing to do.  It must have worked because I don’t think I ever chucked another rock at a car…at least one that was moving. That day I learned about obedience and how it has a whole lot less consequences than disobedience.  I also learned about grace.  Grace is when you deserve a spanking but instead you get a talking.  But I also learned about rock chucking. I learned that it was ok to chuck rocks at things like stumps and cans, but it is not ok to chuck rocks at things like cars. When you do there are consequences…big ones.

Now, there’s another kind of rock chucking that I’m still learning about and that is chucking rocks at people. I’m not talking about waylaying someone with a stone but rather waylaying them with our judgmental acts and words. It’s what we do when we see someone fail and we decide to make ourselves feel better by knocking them down.

Jesus ran into this when some religious people found a woman sinning big-time.  They dragged her into the middle of a crowd and wanted to stone her.  They asked Jesus what would He do?  He told them that the person that had never sinned should chuck the first rock.  Well, slowly they all walked away because they had all messed up. “Where are your accusers?” Jesus asked the woman.  She replied that they had left…and indeed they had.

The only ones left were her, the sinner, and Him, the One who had never sinned.  He could have chucked rocks but instead He loved her and forgave her.  She deserved the rocks, but He gave her grace.  I like that.  A lot.  So, He dismissed her a smile and a word of “now don’t go on sinning” and the rocks stayed on the ground…right where they belong.

I am so grateful for grace…and you should be too.  If we have experienced grace, we should extend some too. You see, rocks make great parking lots and driveways, but are terrible weapons. They need to stay in the quarry or on the ground.  My Daddy showed grace then and my Dearest Daddy shows it every day.  We should too.  It’s good to know though when we are hiding under the dining room table and He calls, we can come out and sit in His lap and learn about the consequences of sin but also the wonders of grace.  So, come on out from your hiding place. We can rest in Him because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Kickapoo Joy Juice

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.” James 1:17

I guess I needed a little Kickapoo Joy Juice.  When I was a kid, I loved anything that was free.  It seemed back then marketers were always giving something away to try to lure consumers.  When I was about nine or ten and living in Jacksonville, one of the local radio stations, WAPE or “The Ape,” was giving away little orange styrofoam balls.  You would put the ball on your car antenna (which in those days was a metal stick about thirty inches long).  “The Ape” would have cars driving around and if they got behind you and announced your tag number on the radio, you received a prize.  It was amazing how many people had those balls on their antennas.  I think at one time we put two or three on there trying to increase our chances.

I also remember different companies giving away vinyl decals.  Countless times I would go the local “Minute Market” to see if they had anything.  One of my favorites was a soft drink that came out in 1965.  It was taken from the comic strip, Li’l Abner, and was called “Kickapoo Joy Juice.” It was similar to Mountain Dew and like Mountain Dew, had an extra kick of caffeine. I would go to the store and, if I had a dime, I would buy the drink but the real mission was to get the free decal to put somewhere in my room or on my notebook.  From the number of decals I had, you would have thought it was my favorite drink.

Recently, I bumped into another kind of Kickapoo.  During my dance with COVID, remember I nicknamed her Corena, my doctor and friend decided it would be good for me to try an infusion of special medicine.  It is given to folks that have a compromised immune system.  In my case because of my age and the fact that I am diabetic he thought it appropriate. So I went to the hospital, pulled out my wallet and got some Kickapoo Joy Juice.  And even that was an experience.

They asked me to wait in my car and they would come and get me.  Sure enough, after a few minutes, two people came out.  One was a nurse to make sure I felt like walking, I did, and the other was an escort, a bouncer of sorts, to “part the water.”  Her job was to either stop normal people when I came anywhere close, or to stop me from being too close to them.  I’m not sure if I felt important or felt like one of the lepers from the Bible.  Remember how they had to shout, “Unclean, unclean?”  Well, I’m pretty sure I know how they felt. But everyone was super kind and before long I was settled in to get my infusion of “Kickapoo.”

Well, it took almost an hour for the infusion and then I had to stick around for another hour just to make sure something weird didn’t happen.  It didn’t.  I went home and since I was in the middle of the storm, I really didn’t have a good day or night but about noon the next day, my fever broke, and I began to feel some better. I’m not at a hundred precent but each day is getting better and I am grateful. I.Am.Grateful.

Saturday night I was having supper with Judy, and she prayed the blessing for our food.  I thought she went a little over the top thanking God for this bump in our lives.  When she finished praying, I jokingly said, “Let’s not overdo the gratitude thing for this.”  I said it in jest, but really, it didn’t need to be said at all.  I don’t know all the good that is going to come out of my dance with Corena, but I know it will far outweigh the bad.

The same James, the half-brother of Jesus, that I quoted a couple of stories ago, said that every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father above.  Think about that. Every good and perfect gift comes down from a God who loves us more than we can imagine.  Just like my doctor and friend knew the cost would be high for my dose of Kickapoo Joy Juice, he also knew it would be of great benefit.  And my Abba Father,  sent His only Son to a broken world and a cruel cross for the same reason, except it was more than for our benefit.  It was so we could be redeemed…set free.  Amazing. He knew the price, which was higher than we could ever imagine, yet He did it.  Why?  He just loves us so.

Well, hopefully my dance with Corena continues to a swift end.  Thanks for the dance Corena, because you taught me to hurt with others.  And thank you Dearest Daddy for trusting me with the dance and for showing me once again that, “You’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Dancing With Corena

Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials.” James 1:2

I didn’t even know she was invited to the dance and I certainly don’t remember dancing with her.  Her name is Corena…my new name for COVID-19.  As we all know, in early March 2020, the word on everyone’s lips was the COVID-19 or the corona virus.  Regardless, it changed our lives.  We went through lockdowns, closedowns, and mask mandates.  Toilet paper and dozens of other items suddenly flew off the shelves and became hot items on the black market.  Myself included and millions of others escaped the initial onset of the virus, and I breathed a sigh of relief when at the end of January, I was able to get the first of two shots of the Moderna vaccine.  A month later I received my second shot, and I counted the days, hours, and minutes for the next two weeks.  I made it. I was fully vaccinated and fully expected not to have to endure a personal attack of the COVID-19 virus.

I know in our area there were like 13,000 people fully vaccinated.  Of those, there were only 41 break-through cases—cases of people getting the virus after being fully vaccinated.  Imagine only 41 out of 13,000. Those were odds I could live with.  Well, I guess I should go buy a lottery ticket because I became one of those break-through cases.  I had unknowingly danced with Corena, and lost. It went like this. Last Tuesday, I woke up with a bit of a cough…not the deep throaty kind but the itchy, catch in your throat kind. You know, these days if you cough people scatter in six different directions. Well, I went to work and told my co-workers not to worry. “Just allergies,” I said. “It happens every year,” I said. And it does, but not this time.

That night I slept horrible.  When my wife got up that morning, I explained I had really slept poorly.  “Just allergies,” she said. “It happens every year,” she said.  So then I merrily went to work at the office, attributing my occasional cough to allergies and my tiredness to lack of sleep.  Wednesday night was, well, not fun.  I tossed, turned, coughed, got hot and then got cold.  In the morning, I told Judy that I thought I had a sinus infection.  I messaged my friend and doctor to see if he would write me a script for an antibiotic…like a Z-Pack. At Judy’s prodding, I also told him that I would take a COVID test if he felt I should.   He thought it wise.  I have a wise friend and doctor.

So, it was Thursday morning, when I got tested and twenty-five minutes later I learned that I had indeed danced with Corena—the COVID virus.  I don’t know where I got it, nor does that matter.  What I do know is that in a matter of a few hours I had a new respect for the virus and those who danced with her before it became my turn. I felt awful.  In fact, referring to my heart stint deal three years ago, I told my daughter I would take the heart attack over my dance with Corena. Judy said I was talking out of my head.  No, I really think I would.  I managed to have almost all the symptoms and none of them made my list of top things I want to do again.

Well, if nothing else comes out of this, I know I have a better empathy for others.  You see empathy is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. It is to walk a mile or so in someone else’s shoes.  I have prayed for a lot of people who danced with Corena, and I promise you I will pray a little harder now. I have felt sympathy for those who have suffered from the dance, but I will feel a deeper sympathy now.

There is one thing that didn’t change from my dance with Corena.  It is my absolute certainty that God is in absolute control of every aspect of my life…and yours.  He allowed me to dance with her so that I could learn about empathy, and sympathy, and maybe, just maybe, about slowing down because trust me…I slowed down.  Remember that verse that James the half-brother of Jesus wrote that said, “Hey, count it all joy when you find yourself in all kinds of trials?” Well, I’ve taught that Biblical joy is a “deep sense of wellbeing based on one’s faith in God and trust in His sovereign will.”  It is the chance to test what you say you believe.  Now, that’s a good thing.

So, if you have danced, or are dancing with Corena…I feel your pain.  If your family has suffered loss after the dance, I hurt with you and pray you will keep trusting the heavenly Father.  And I know one more thing.  I always try to end my story with the words, “He’s got this.”  Well, I am more, not less, convinced that He does indeed, “have this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

I Just Couldn’t Resist

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (Hebrews 12:11)

I just couldn’t resist.  All of us have stories that we don’t necessarily remember but are passed down through the years.  Some are humorous, some are serious, and some are the things legends are made of.  Well, this one I believe qualifies as all three. 

When I was quite young, probably six or seven, life was pretty good.  We lived in a country setting that was rapidly becoming the suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida.  There was a subdivision being built right next to where we lived.  Some of the men who were working there would drive these cool wedge shape sticks in the ground at the corners of each lot.  They had numbers on them.  They were surveyor markers for the lots.  We thought they made great rubber band guns so we would help ourselves.  We had an endless supply of rubber bands because the newspaper came each day with one or two wrapped around it. We weren’t trying to be mischievous; we were just trying to have fun.  I bet it wasn’t fun for the guys who did the surveying.

Sometimes, our fun might become someone else’s pain.  And, this is where the story really begins.  Back in those days, going to the grocery store was the great adventure.  My dad got paid every other Friday.  Payday night we would load up in the car and go to buy groceries.  It seemed we would always buy the stuff to make sandwiches for supper when we got home which invariably included a gallon of chocolate milk.  It never saw the light of the next morning.

Well, one Friday night, we were at the grocery store and apparently, I had a rubber band left over from my adventures that day. I must have reached in my pocket and found the small piece of rubber and thought, “You know, we can have some fun with this.”  Well, I probably should have thought that through a little better, but when you are six or seven and mischievous by nature, anything is game.  I started looking for targets.

Down the aisle was a rather large woman.  And what happens next has been blocked from my memory but is stated as fact.  As we got closer to the woman, perhaps as she studied what brand of mayo to buy, I took the rubber band, placed it between my thumb and pointer finger, moved my hand, in close proximity to the intended target and let it fly.  I can only imagine what happened next.

First, I am certain she was shocked.  It must have felt like a killer bee had bit her but that wasn’t logical since she was in a store.  I’m thinking she probably spun around and looked only to see this smiling kid with a rubber band still in his hand.  To me it was all fun.  To her it was all pain.  Lesson one.  Don’t let your fun become someone else’s pain.

Second, I am certain my parents were devastated.  Since this would have been about 1960 or 61 there were not the social rules about child discipline that we have today.  Knowing my Daddy and Momma, there was probably swift and lethal retribution.  I can imagine one of them, perhaps both of them, making sure my bottom felt like her bottom.  No one would have called Children and Family Services.  They all would have said, “Let me help you with that.”

Third, I believe that this was when I began to really understand repentance.  Repentance means to turn around and go in a different direction.  If I could have gotten loose from Daddy that night, I would have definitely practiced repentance…I probably would still be running.  The other meaning of repentance is to have a change in attitude.  I am certain that happened.  If you were to ask me how many other times I decided to pop a strange lady with a rubber band in the grocery store that number would be zero.  Somehow the urge suddenly left me.  I had repented.

This is going to sound hokey, but it is memories like this that show how much my parents loved me.  They loved me enough to teach me right from wrong, respect for other people, a strong work ethic and to believe in God.  And they loved me enough to give me a swat or two when I needed it.  It all came together to help me grow, and live and love.

God is the same way.  My Daddy and Momma loved me very much, but God outshines even them.  He loves me and teaches me to do life with fewer oops and fewer consequences. I never carry rubber bands in my pocket just to avoid the temptation.  But He also loves me enough to discipline me when I need it. The author of Hebrews says it best.  He writes, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Spot on.  He must have popped some lady too.

So, try and show some grace.  I shouldn’t have popped the lady and I haven’t popped any more.  Don’t judge my parents for taking care of the problem.  I am grateful for the way they raised me.  And don’t be mad at God if He disciplines you.  He is way too wise to make a mistake and way too loving to do the wrong thing.  He is our “Abba Father,” our Dearest Daddy so we can trust Him.  We can rest in Him.  Because…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

The One in Control

Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts.” Ecclesiastes 4:9

I soon discovered who was in control…and it wasn’t me. My adventure with my wife, Judy, down Jack’s Fork River in Southeast Missouri was a lesson in life. Jack’s Fork is a tributary to the Current River. The key word there is “current,” because there is one, both on Jack’s Fork and its big brother. At the launching place the current is hardly noticeable. It all seems so serene, so gentle, so docile. The reason for that is the fact at that particular point, the river is somewhat wide…at least compared to downstream. It seemed to be saying, “Come on in.  Trust me.” We have a saying for that “Liar, liar. Pants on fire.”

As Judy and I launched from the shore I was immediately impressed with how stable the canoe seemed to be. “This isn’t so hard,” I said. “This is going to be a breeze,” I said. “We’ve got this,” I said. I decided it would be good time to test my steering and guiding capabilities for the canoe. If you want to go to the left…you paddle on the right. “Paddle, right,” I said to Judy. The canoe went straight. I decided to try the other way, “Paddle, left,” I said to Judy. The canoe went straight. Hmmm. It kinda reminded me of my teenage kids. It kinda reminded me of me when God was saying one thing and I didn’t listen.

Well, I tried “Plan B” of the steering plan and that is when the guy or gal in the back drags the paddle in the water. If you want to go left ,you drag your paddle in the water on the left side and if you want to go right you do the opposite. Now this produced some results…I think. I say I think because sometimes it seemed to work and sometimes it didn’t and there was a reason. You see I might have been in the back trying to steer but really, it was the current that was the boss. And too soon that became apparent.

About ten minutes into the trip, the river narrowed a bit and took a turn to the left. The water went from gentle to a class 14 rapid…the kind you see on television when people are dying. Waves, 15 feet tall, threatened to swamp the boat. Ok, that might be a slight exaggeration, but the current was definitely faster and stronger, and we did lose four or five boats there. Somehow, Judy and I survived the challenge but trust me it had nothing to do with skill and a lot to do with grace.

But here’s the deal. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it seemed I wasn’t in control. The current took us where it wanted. The best I could manage was to manage to stay away from the hazards and stay somewhere in the middle of the swift water. It would pull us this way and push us that way and we were along for the ride. Even in smoother water it seemed we spent a lot of time going from side to side instead of down the river.

I think I know the problem…inexperience. I knew the basics, I knew some of the mechanics, but I just didn’t have the time in the saddle, if you get my drift, partner. Someone who had done this a lot wouldn’t have had the same issues Judy and I did. With experience, you learn to read the river and use the current to your advantage. And, equally important, you learn to work together as a team. By reading the river and working as a team, you overcome the obstacles and hazards and that increases your chances of arriving safely…and dry.

Speaking of dry…Judy and I did arrive dry. The only time we got wet was when we stopped for a rest and some snacks and then it was a welcome relief to get in the cold water. So, whether it is in marriage or family, at home or at church, or at work, perhaps we should learn to “read the river” and work with, and not against, one another. The wisest guy to ever live and the author of one of the books of wisdom in the Bible said it best, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts.” The current may be strong but two might just be able to overcome it. It gets better.

You see, the same guy says in the same place, that a three strand cord is not easily broken. You see, often our best efforts are just not enough. Sometimes those currents can become raging rapids and sometimes it happens with little or no warning. Why not invite a third party along for the ride? Why not invite God along for the journey? I know that He has all the experience in the universe and beyond and the One who made river, knows the river better than we ever will. As you are navigating the river of life, take a moment and listen from the back of the boat. You will hear the Whisper say, “Hey, take a break. I’ve got this.” And do you know what? He does. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, life, prayer, Scripture, travel, Trials

While I’m Waiting

Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” James 1:2-3

At first it seemed unfair but then, there it was, conspiracy.  There is a lot of talk today about conspiracy schemes.  When and whatever happens there is someone who will say there is a dark diabolical reason for it happening.  I wasn’t sure about it until it happened to me.  Yes, there was a conspiracy.

Last year, my wife Judy and I were able to attend a pastor’s conference in North Carolina.  It was so good to pack a few things, jump into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road.  Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” was ringing in my ears.  We cruised across Tennessee and were heading toward North Carolina when it happened.  About five miles from the border, our GPS talky thing said, in her most gentle voice, “traffic ahead.”  Well, it wasn’t like we were in Chicago or something so that could only mean trouble.

Soon, very soon, trouble was staring me in the face.  Break-lights and slowing vehicles were everywhere.  We were in a slowdown—we were in—traffic.  Signage and the talky thing confirmed my worse fears—there was construction ahead.  Now you need to know something.  First, I am not patient in traffic.  Ok, that wasn’t totally transparent.  I am totally impatient in traffic.  In fact, I’m not patient period.  Whether it be in traffic or at the store, I am changing lanes like a one-armed paperhanger looking for the shortest and fastest lane.  The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made but I must have missed the patience part.

Have ever been driving and the traffic going in the opposite direction is stopped and you are feeling sorry for them?  Well, I was the one stopped, and I could just feel the empathy of the other drivers.  It turned out to be about a 45-minute stop and go.  The amazing part was I did pretty good.  Judy was beaming at my surprised patience.  I even said, “Well, at least going home we won’t have to deal with this.”  Soon (though not soon enough) we were through the construction—we were on our way.  Hit the fast forward button.

That was Wednesday.  Too quickly the days of the conference went by and in no time, it was time to go home.  After the conference ended at noon, we jumped into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road toward home.  Willie was once again whirling around in my head singing “On the Road Again.”  We were nearing the site of Wednesday’s lesson in patience feeling confident and glad that we were heading in the other direction.  And then it happened.  The GPS talky thing mentioned traffic, 14 miles per hour, and delays. Wait. What?  We were not supposed to have to deal with this. And this is when I knew there was a conspiracy.  They had changed sides.

Here’s how I think it played out.  The North Carolina Department of Transportation called the conference center, asked when I was leaving and then quickly moved the construction to the West bound side so they could get me again.  I am sure of it.  So, another slowdown, another wait in traffic, but this time they were merciful since it was only 27 minutes and 14 seconds.  Oh yes, I was counting.  And the people going east, were zooming by with looks of mercy for those of us stuck.  It just wasn’t fair.

I know the Bible well enough to know that you don’t pray for patience.  That is one prayer you won’t hear passing through my lips.  Pray for patience and you end up with traffic. Pray for patience and you end up locked in your house with three kids for three months.  So, I got that.  But there is a pesky couple of verses found in James 1:2-3 that says, “Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” I really like the Bible, but I really don’t like those verses.

Of all the emotions I feel when I am sitting in traffic, joy is not the one that comes to mind—and certainly not great joy.  But then I read verse 3 and it gives me pause.  James says I should appreciate the moments in traffic because it helps me to grow. It helps me to be a better person.  It helps me be stronger—it builds endurance.  Like lifting weights at the gym strengths muscles so trying situations strengthens our faith in God.  Which means part of that whole 2020 deal, and 2021 for that matter, should be to make us stronger in our faith.  Hmmmm.

Well, in the end I did pretty good through traffic lesson number two and we managed to get home that evening just about on time.  Truth be known…God was good, God was faithful and even in traffic, God can be trusted.  No matter what, He has my good at His heart.  He wants me to thrive in this world and not just survive.  And that means sometimes learning patience sitting in traffic.  As you travel today wherever and however that looks, just know God is the traffic manager of your life.  Just sit back, enjoy the pause and rest in Him. He’s got this. Honk, Honk.  Bro. Dewayne